Frozen Strawberries
by mardou paradise
Summary: drabble, Remus/Lily.
1. one

Collection of drabble, I suppose. Probably won't be chronological unless I organise it later. Ok? Ok.

(ps All Remus/Lily)

* * *

"Remus?"

Remus' eyes flicked lazily open. "Yes, Lily."

"How on EARTH can you sleep when you and I are mere miles away from the most important year of our life? For heavens sake, I feel as if I'm going to jump out of my skin and onto your lap"

Remus gave up on sleep for the third time during the long train ride.

"It's only second year, Lily. Nothing any more important than last year, and certainly less consequential than next."

"How do we know that, dearest? How can we ever know that maybe, in an hour or a week or a month, something dreadfully important will happen, that will change everything?"

"You and I are everything, and nothing will ever change us, Lily"

"Can you honestly promise that to me? Can you promise that you'll be the only one who knows me, exactly and perfectly?"

Lily's feet in their brown leather shoes tapped Remus' knees impatiently. He took one slow look at her as she sat, lovely and waiting and lit up in the sunset.

"No."

And then James Potter and his wretched mates stumbled, laughing, into the privacy of their sunlit compartment.


	2. two

"Why aren't we together?" She'd cry, pulling his hair hard, violently sobbing. "Why is this too much for you? This is who we are, we're the same person, Remus"

Eventually she'd fall to the floor in anger, or spot a particularly pretty pattern in the trees above them, and she would forget how much she wanted him, for the time being at least.

"Why won't you let this happen? You and I?"

He thought he knew why.

It was because of the first time Remus walked into Defence Against the Dark Arts, thirteen years old and still beautifully naive, and was mercilessly teased for the lipstick that had accidentally smeared on his white shirt collar - Lily's signature pink.

It was because of the first time James hit him, about two minutes into said Defence Against the Dark Arts class, and because even after James said he was sorry, Remus knew he wasn't.

It was because of the way they lay, arms and legs sprawled wide in the grass, whilst she whispered him secrets that brought him much too close to her.

Mostly, it was because of the fact that he held her back in all of her radiance, with his disfiguration, his constant ugliness. She was a bright star.

He chewed his pencil and started a list:

"Reasons to resist one Lily Evans"


	3. three

It was Christmas.

It was Christmas, eight or nine in the evening, and all the windows are lit up with firelight.

It was Christmas, and Remus Lupin knelt in the snow, teeth clenched to stop them from chattering and a grim expression on his face. A slight moan escaped his lips as his body desperately shook in the snow, eyes closed, listening to the wind and waiting for her.

She came, quietly but for the slight jingling of bells around her wrists. A muggle thing. "Darling"

He ignored the endearment, but allowed her to slip his cold hands into the pockets of her cardigan. Their eyes met and she stared calmly into his rage, refusing to give in to his anger. "I'm not going to apologise, Rem."

Remus gave a snort of contempt. "I don't want you to apologise to me, Lily."

"You told me to do it."

"Excuse me?"

"You told me to kiss James Potter, and I did it, even though I knew you and I would both hate it, and anyway it's over now, and I don't fancy feeling guilty about it on Christmas."

Remus was far away.

"You can kiss me too, if you'd like."

He shook his head, but a tiny smile stained his lips. "Lily Evans, you are possibly the strangest girl in the world."

It was her turn to look distressed.

"Remus Lupin, I admit I am a lot of things. I am sweet sixteen, and I can't whistle or cook. I love the snow and can't stand Quidditch, and I'm wonderful and overwhelming and sometimes frightening. But never strange."

This cheered Remus up enough to gruffly slide a hand along her shoulders and press his lips awkwardly to her temple. Lily pulled from her pocket a tiny silver bell on brown string, and tied it to his dangling wrist, an unhappy frown on her face.

Wordlessly, Remus pulled her up and they walked back to the castle hand-in-hand, the silence resigned on his part, and guilty on hers.

It was Christmas and the quiet sprinkling of bells rang out only to the two of them, like a secret that punctured the cold night and held them together, despite James Potter, despite the whispers of an oncoming war. It was Christmas and they were all that mattered.


End file.
